The event was to take place at least a fortnight ago, but then news came that it had been postponed to a later date. The later day became still later, and the occasion was put off once more, on the plea that ``nawabsaab'' had taken ill.

But a nawab keeps his word, even though there may be some minor delays, and he finally strode into Rodeo's Connaught Place branch this week, just over an hour late. Without much aplomb, he made a quick dash for the bat, and simply signed, ``All the best, Pataudi,'' with a red marker, as the shutterbugs stumbled to keep up with the fast pace of the entire exercise. The ``cow-boy'' staff of Rodeo, hoping for the perfect photo-op for the restaurant -- tried to hand him a Rodeo-style hat even as he was signing. But it was a futile attempt, as they should have known. He simply waived aside the request -- and the hat -- in his usual nawabi andaaz, saying it wasn't needed. Then, it was question-answer time, and Pataudi fielded each query in his clipped, perfectly poised manner. What does he think of the Indian team's prospects at the forthcoming world cup?

``They asked me the same question during the 1983 world cup,'' he replied, not sounding at all tired of the query. ``And I told them I would be very surprised if they win.'' The team may have changed, but his opinion remains the same. ``South Africa and Pakistan are very good teams, and our boys have to make sure they are in good shape, which they are not right now,'' he cautions. And, no, he doesn't think there's any such thing as too much cricket, though he does admit that ``in the old days, when you got hurt, you had time to recover, and you simply don't have that anymore.''

Of course, the Nawab's interest in cricket is now only restricted to the armchair variety and he doesn't wield the bat anymore, even for the heck of it. ``I do umpiring sometimes,'' he concedes, and adds tongue-in-cheek: ``For instance, they always make me umpire at a game where Madhavrao Scindia is playing, because I'm the only one in all of Delhi who can signal him out.'' His drink of a glass of 7-Up over, his good deed for the day done, and his best wishes delivered to the cricket team (with a dash of well-meaning advice that they should pull up their socks), Pataudi left as quickly as he had arrived.

Leaving behind him a huge bat on which anyone who visits Rodeo in the coming weeks can scrawl their best wishes and name along with the Nawab's. That's about as close as most of Delhi can get to the phenomenon that is Pataudi. Or the hope of the nation that is the Indian cricket team.